When Life Gives You Ole Bessie
I often don’t think of the things I have missed out on in life because I don’t know any difference. I have always used a wheelchair and it’s the only life I know. I never realized how I had never gone hiking before. I’m 27 and hiking is a huge pastime for young adults. On all the dating apps, every boy has a hiking photo and how he wants a hiking partner. My friends go camping and backpacking, including my sister. It was something I never really envied because I personally prefer a comfy bed and indoor plumbing. Nonetheless, I love the outdoors.
I’ve gone walking on trails before, but you’re not necessarily in the woods. You see trees, flowers, and other people. The paths are paved or wide and leveled out.
Every year instead of making New Year's resolutions, I write down a list of new things I want to try. Georgia recently launched a program thanks to the Aimee Copeland Foundation called All-Terrain Georgia. Eleven Georgia State Parks have all terrain wheelchairs for physically disabled individuals to use for FREE. I had it on my 2023 list of new things to try out, but planning to go anywhere for me takes a lot of attention to details.
2023 was one of the hardest years for me because I had multiple health problems and hospitalizations. The year was slowly ending and it was already Fall. One of my caregivers, Nicole, could see I was mentally down. She asked me what is something I’ve been wanting to do for fun. I told her about the All-Terrain program and she got so excited. She said she would be happy to make that dream come true for me.
“But you’d have to give up your entire day on a weekend. And a lot of people don’t so I’m unable to make all-day plans away.” I told her.
Nicole said, “Please, I already hike for the whole day on the weekends anyway. You wouldn’t be taking away from anything I’d already be doing. It will be so much fun!”
“Yeah, but I have to get lifted into the wheelchair. I’ll need two people and it’ll be such a hassle to get my Hoyer lift in the car. I don’t know who else will come with us.” That was another excuse I gave to her.
“Let me ask my friends! I have one who loves hiking and is very knowledgeable about Georgia’s state parks. He goes almost every weekend.”
My face lit up and I asked, “Really? You mean it? You’re not just saying this?” In the past, I’ve had caregivers make empty promises. I’ve learned to not get my hopes up when it comes to them volunteering their time for me.
Not only did she mean it, but she enthusiastically was an active participant in the entire adventure from start to finish. We picked a weekend that would work for us, and her friend suggested we go to Cloudland Canyon Park. It was apparently the prettiest park in the mountains with waterfalls. We had to take an online course and test to ensure we knew how to operate the wheelchair safely. We submitted our paperwork. I was still in disbelief that my caregiver took time out of her busy college schedule to become certified. I have to have a “Buddy” with me anytime I check out any of the wheelchairs and they have to get certified as well.
Once we were certified, we were able to book the wheelchair online in advance. It was all too good to be true. The exciting day of hiking came and it was a beautiful November day. The leaves were all golden, red, and orange. The sky was completely clear, a light blue with not a cloud in the sky and the crisp 60s. Everything was perfect. The wheelchair was booked, and we bought snacks, bungee cords, and other supplies I would need for comfort.
We went outside to my old, green van named Bessie. We turned the key and… it wouldn’t start.
We cranked it multiple times, jumpstarted it, and searched for what could possibly be wrong. My dreams came crashing down. An hour had gone by and the car still wouldn’t start. We called our relatives and mechanic friends we knew. Still no luck. I was crushed and felt defeated. These kind college students had given up their entire Saturday for me and now the plans were all ruined.
But no. I would not accept defeat. We had done DAYS of planning. Outlining what trail to take, what snacks to bring, and coordinating times. I booked the wheelchair for a specific time. We got certified. No. I would not let a car stop me. I decided to at least give it one more chance. I called for Roadside Assistance to come and see if they could get it started. I called the park and asked if I could use the wheelchair at a later time. It was no problem and we waited for the mechanic to arrive.
By some miracle, my van started. We jumped at the hum of the car’s engine. Two and a half hours later, we were finally on the road. It was much later than planned, but I was still going to make it.
The drive was three hours. We jammed out to road trip tunes, ate our lunch in the car, and enjoyed looking at the scenery. If you’ve ever seen Georgia trees in the Fall, it is breathtaking. The light makes the horizon glow and the trees are every warm color you can imagine. We drove along winding roads where we felt the elevation going up.
We arrived at Cloudland Canyon Park and entered the Visitor’s Center. It was a small wooden cabin surrounded by rocks from the mountain. We went up to the front desk and told them our story.
The woman smiled and said, “Oh, you were who called! Just wait here for the Park Ranger to come bring the wheelchair over. Enjoy your visit!”
The gift shop had cute souvenirs of the park including t-shirts, keychains, and hats. The Ranger was exactly what you picture when you think of a park ranger. He brought the wheelchair from his truck and explained how to operate it.
The wheelchair was like a mini tank. The metal was a light yellow and it had camo on the seat cushion and backrest. It can be used for fishing, archery, and more! It goes over tree roots, bumps, inclines, and everything my power wheelchair can’t do. The wheelchair was equipped with headlights, could recline, and had a platform on the back to put your gear.
We strapped my ventilator and other bags onto the back with our bungee cords. Nicole and her friend, Collin, lifted me flawlessly into the wheelchair. They gently got me comfortable using pillows and blankets so I would be propped up. The wheelchair is very big for me because it’s a one-size-fits-all for adults. I’m a bit smaller than most average-sized adults so I was expecting it and came prepared. We circled trying to find the pathway for the trail. The chair was so fast! I tried to get the hang of it, but the controls were different than my wheelchair.
Imagine tying your shoes a certain way each day and wearing the same pair of shoes every day. Now, someone gave you shoes too large for you and told you you can’t tie them like you normally do. That’s kind of what it felt like.
We laughed as I started speeding down the road trying all kinds of moves in the wheelchair. It felt so powerful to be in the tank of a wheelchair! I could do anything! Go anywhere. One trail we saw was too steep for the wheelchair. We circled around and found another perfect path.
And off we went! The sky was a golden color and the sun shone through the thick of the trees. I rolled over these huge roots and bumps on the path. It felt amazing because I could never do that in my wheelchair. What was more exciting to me was being in the woods. I’ve seen woods, but I’ve never been in the woods. There’s a big difference between being one with the trees and seeing the trees.
We started to see if we could name all 50 states, singing “Hunger Games” songs, and “Colors of the Wind” from Pocahontas. We saw other families camping and enjoyed feeling small amongst nature. The smell of the fresh leaves and woods hit my nostrils. I reclined the wheelchair up and down to go over hills and at angles for large tree roots. The sound of the leaves were crunching as I rolled over it with the tires.
The sun was setting and the sky turned pink and blue. An hour later, we decided to head back. We called the Park Ranger and he came to pick up the wheelchair. We left around 5 PM and made it safely back home around 8 PM.
Since my whole plan was thrown out the window that day, I was in a rush all day. A rush to get to the park, a rush to do the trail, a rush to get home, and a rush to bed. I didn’t stop and enjoy the moment and the peace. The kindness of Nicole and Collin. The beauty of the woods. The enjoyment of being in that wheelchair and experiencing something new. I was in such a rush. Even when Nicole was taking pictures.
It was just so incredible to go hiking. The trees, the colors, the music, the company, and the wheelchair. It’s so nice to finally have an activity I can do comfortably. I don’t really like wheelchair sports, rock climbing, and biking. I can’t do a lot of activities because of my ventilator. But I can rent out a tank of a wheelchair and go into the woods.
I’ve always loved the woods and escaping into nature. Now I can hide even more and be one with the trees. It’s a cool feeling. I get why people like hiking so much. It’s easy to be disappointed with life’s obstacles. My car not starting, waiting for the chair, and the long drive home. And I didn’t get to see waterfalls. But it was still an incredible day. And those things are all minor. I got my car fixed, I got in the wheelchair, I did so many firsts, took care of myself and my dog, we all got back safely, and it wasn’t a bad drive. The ranger was also nice.
It’s hard to decide if a memory is “good” or “bad” but it’s just a string of events. How we interpret them is up to us. it can be a messy string of events, it doesn’t have to be one or the other. And all the “obstacles” were really not that “bad” at all. There are so many factors outside of my control and where I don’t decide anything.
But that day, I was all in control. I did everything. I wore layers, bought bungee cords, pillows, drank water, packed food, had a blanket. I was ready to go. And that’s also something to be proud of. And it was Nicole’s first morning shift and I told her and Collin how to lift me for the first time. And it went great. I called the park to tell them we were going to change the time, I coordinated my caregivers, did the certification, picked a day, and called roadside assistance. I did that.
And that’s power. Power in myself.
